Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Chapter 26
Clarabella
“Hey.” Presley sticks her head into my office. “Shelby and I were going to go grab some dinner. Did you maybe want to come with us?” she asks, and I nod my head.
“That sounds great,” I say, pushing away from the desk and looking down to see that it’s just after six o’clock. “Where do you want to go?” I ask, walking around the desk and going to grab my purse.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Presley asks, and I stop midstep to look down and make sure I didn’t get something on my outfit today. “Are those jeans?” She puts her hands on her hips, and I see that she is wearing jeans, so I don’t know why she’s giving me such a hard time. Especially since none of us had any appointments today.
I get to my purse and put my phone in it. “These jeans cost me three hundred dollars,” I huff, looking down at my white jeans.
“Oh, trust me, I know how much they cost,” she states, putting her hands on her hips. “What I’m asking is why are you wearing clothes that aren’t black?” I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out because I didn’t even notice. When I can’t come up with any words, all I do is roll my eyes at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pick up my purse, avoiding looking at her when she laughs out loud and claps her hands together.
“Are we going for dinner or what?” Shelby asks, coming into my office and looking at me standing here looking at Presley. “What’s going on?”
“We are discussing the fact that Morticia here”—Presley points at me—“is wearing white pants and that she hasn’t been wearing black for a while.”
Shelby gasps and glares at Presley. “I thought you said we were going to discuss this at dinner.” Shelby huffs, “You are the worst.”
“I couldn’t help it.” Presley shrugs. “She’s even wearing a peach shirt.”
“Ugh, you suck,” Shelby says. “Now, where are we going to eat?”
“Is that even an option anymore?” Presley says. “Imagine we went to another restaurant and Luke found out.”
I roll my eyes. “He’d be fine,” I assure them, and my heart starts to speed up a touch when I think about seeing him. The three of us walk out of the office and head over to the restaurant, all of us hopping in one car.
“I love the summer,” Shelby says as we make our way to the restaurant. The sound of live music fills the air, and the sound of kids’ laughter is off in the distance as families walk together down the main road.
Walking in, I see that some of the tables are free, and it’s not as busy as it is on the weekends. I look around as Shelby and Presley talk to the hostess, who nods her head and grabs three menus as she leads us to the corner booth. I slide into one side while Shelby and Presley slide in front of me. “Is Luke here?” Shelby asks while I look around and see the kitchen door open as a server comes out.
“He should be here,” I say, ignoring the way that my heart is beating. “But it’s not like we keep track of each other.” I ignore their looks by grabbing a menu that I know by heart, just to avoid looking at them.
The server comes over, and she recognizes me from when I’ve come in beforehand with clients. I smile at her as I order a wine, and not two seconds later, I see him come out of the kitchen. I try to hide the smile that fills my face, but I can’t. If I see him, I smile. If he walks into a room, I smile. When he kisses my neck in the morning, I smile. It’s the smile each and every time. “I heard we had special guests.” His eyes light up when he sees my sisters and then slides in beside me. “Hi there,” he greets and leans in to kiss my lips.
“Hi,” I say, putting my hand on his leg. He slips his fingers in with mine, and I can’t even put into words what I feel. It’s the strangest thing every single night we slide into bed together, and it feels like it’s always been like this. Like he was always holding me to sleep, like he was always waking up with me and making me coffee while I got ready.
He talks to my sisters, and nothing feels forced, and it’s probably because we worked together before, so they know him. He gets up, going to the kitchen to continue working, and when it’s time to get the bill, the server tells us it’s taken care of. My sisters get up to leave, and I follow them but stop instead of walking out of the door. “Are you not coming with us?” Shelby asks me when I look over my shoulder.